


The Night, Tired Mare, Shakes Her Mane And Black Tail

by ya_idjits



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: ?!?!?!?!, Blowjobs, Hair Pulling Kink, Like, M/M, Oh wow, PWP, Smut, amirite ladies, but - Freeform, extreme pwp, hernst, i have so much assessment to do, like i don't think you understand this is literally just sex, outdoors sex, this took longer than i thought, what am I even doing, with maybe a tiny bit of fluff, wowee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ya_idjits/pseuds/ya_idjits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is literally just sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night, Tired Mare, Shakes Her Mane And Black Tail

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Mata Del Anima Sola, the best fuckin' Spanish choral song to ever exist. And oh my fucking god Hanschen I can't even deal with your shit rn jesus christ  
> you're a fifteen year old who calls his lover "darling" in the middle of intercourse  
> like  
> ugh who does he think he is what a pretentious little asshole i want twenty

“Relax, Ernst.”

Ernst blushes, a rosy pink flush creeping up into the apples of his cheeks and, as always, thrilling Hanschen. It makes him feel powerful; the fact that he can cause the other boy to redden so easily delights him to no end.

“It’s just –are you… are you sure you’re – comfortable?”

“Aren’t you?” Hanschen drawls, tugging Ernst further into the v of his muscular thighs and rucking the tight hems of his trousers up even higher.

If possible, Ernst turns pinker.

“I am. I mean, I’m not _uncomfortable_ , but I don’t know if you are and I –“

Hanschen cuts him off by pressing their lips together. It’s much more careful than their usual kisses, much less fierce. Ernst makes a soft, almost reverent noise, sending gentle vibrations dancing across Hanschen’s pliant lips and causing his trousers (which are already much more tight than Herr Knochenbruch would ever approve of) to tent just enough to pull them tighter. Ernst pulls away, noticing said tenting. Hanschen loves – _loves,_ almost filthily – the fact that his arousal makes Ernst flutter those long-lashed eyes closed in embarrassment on Hanschen’s behalf. It’s almost as if they were destined: the boy who flushes at the drop of a hat, and the boy who feels no shame. Hanschen grins maliciously in return, savouring the way Ernst’s now heavily-lidded eyes follow the parting of his lips to reveal pearly, straight teeth.

Never taking his eyes off those lips, Ernst leans forward to judiciously take the lower one between both of his, simultaneously twining those clever, slender fingers into Hanschen’s thick blond locks and – _oh, God, he’s pulling. He’s never pulled before oh fuck that feels good why has he never done that before –_

“Hanschen?”

Hanschen allows his lashes to brush the tender skin below his brows as his eyes roll back in pleasure. “Do that again.”

Ernst looks less timid and more determined as he tugs at that same spot at the base of Hanschen’s skull. Hanschen shivers when the other boy’s nails scrape lightly over the sensitive flesh of his scalp, raking tiny parts through his hair and making it stick out. Leaning back to admire his handiwork, Ernst laughs when he sees that there’s one curl hanging down over Hanschen’s eye. Hanschen smirks and surges up to kiss the smile off of his partner’s bitten-to-shininess lips.

“I want you to, darling,” he growls. “I want it to stick out everywhere, so that everyone knows exactly what we’ve been doing. I want you to pull it so hard that it stays like that for a week, however you twist it, so that I can look in the glass and see your worship reflected back –“

_“Hanschen.”_

Ernst feels the other boy’s smug grin as he slots their mouths together again and leans into him, pressing his back into the giant oak towering above them – _their oak,_ Ernst thinks happily – enough so that Ernst imagines it might be painful. Hanschen, however, shows no sign of discomfort as he slides his hands over the itchy wool pulled taut across Ernst’s thigh. Despite the fact that this is far from the boys’ first intimate encounter, Ernst still starts when his partner’s fingers slip up to cup his ass and pull him impossibly closer. He feels Hanschen grin cheekily into their kiss; no matter how comfortable they are with each other, making Ernst jump will always give Hanschen a giddy rush.

He brings his hands back in between their bodies to tug at the waistband of Ernst’s trousers. “You’re overdressed,” he purrs.

“By that standard, so are you,” Ernst murmurs, looking ruffled.

“Not so,” the blond retorts. “At least I’m not still wearing my blazer.”

“Yes, well, you’re not wearing _nothing,_ ” Ernst replies, panting as he drops his gaze to Hanschen’s collarbone where it peeks out of his school shirt, “so we need to move a bit quicker.”

_Dear Lord, I’ve corrupted him._

Hanschen lets a wicked grin twist his features as he cradles Ernst’s jaw to slide their mouths back together. Hands flit over bodies, undoing buttons and fumbling with collars and tugging on pant legs. Hanschen relishes the way the rough tree bark scrapes against his newly bare shoulder blades – they jut out because he arches his body back to fit in the gorgeous, pale crescent of Ernst’s, curving over him like a crashing wave. Hanschen is still wearing his trousers, and Ernst – completely nude – tugs impatiently at the waistband.

“No, darling, I’m keeping them on,” Hanschen asserts. And then, even though it looks like it pains him to say it – “Today, it isn’t about me.”

Ernst’s cock twitches; Hanschen would never even suggest that to anyone else.

Hanschen pushes his partner off him and links their fingers together to guide them both until they’re standing up. He brushes their lips together, delicately running his tongue along Ernst’s lower one. With a firm but chaste kiss and the words “sex with you is a new religion” breathed into Ernst’s mouth, Hanschen sinks down onto his knees, raking his fingernails from his partner’s shoulders to naked ass in the process. Ernst, pinker than should be possible, shivers and writhes under the blond’s touch.

Manoeuvring them until Ernst is pressed against their oak, Hanschen carefully grips the base of the other boy’s cock and presses his tongue against the underside of the head. Ernst mewls and it’s all Hanschen can do to prevent himself from stretching his mouth as far over his partner’s cock as it will go. No, this is a slow process – one that Hanschen had lay in bed for hours planning and perfecting until he was certain that it would unravel Ernst completely. Instead of deep-throating Ernst, he focuses on the fact that the recent mewl was the loudest either of them have been in weeks. They are both content with almost silent intercourse, which is easily achievable because of practice during the many hours they’ve both had to evade parents or siblings when pleasuring themselves. Hanschen has always thought that moans and whimpers sound fake, although his dick never seems to be uninterested when Ernst curses. The colouring of the sunset may be pretty, but Ernst’s coloured language is even filthily prettier.

Refocusing his attention on the task at hand, Hanschen swirls his tongue around the head of Ernst’s cock before leaning in to slowly suck further and further down the shaft. One of his hands keeps a steady grip at the base, while his other curves around the back of Ernst’s thigh to pull his pelvis closer. It’s a slow, gorgeously torturous process for both boys: Hanschen’s skilled lips pursing around Ernst’s (surprisingly thick) length, moving closer to the base after every time he pulls off entirely with an obscenely wet sound. When he’s almost nosing the dark curls that dust the trail between Ernst’s belly button and cock, Hanschen sits back on his haunches to leer up at his partner.

“I’ll lie awake tomorrow night and the night after and the night after with the cruel phantoms of your fingers twisted in my hair, never yanking hard enough for me to actually feel it.” He nuzzles the creamy inside of Ernst’s thigh, flicking his tongue out to taste before further wetting the flesh with a filthy open-mouthed kiss. He feels Ernst’s cock jump in his grip and grins. “Pull my hair.”

“I thought today wasn’t about you,” the brunet teases, still somehow managing to look embarassed by his arousal.

“I lied,” Hanschen replies. _“Pull my hair_.”

Ernst tilts his head back to pant at the frothy orange clouds and obliges, twining his fingers into Hanschen’s soft blond hair and tugging hard, right at the base of his scalp.

“Harder,” Hanschen hisses commandingly. He drags the flat of his tongue the underside of his partner’s cock before shoving his mouth onto the shaft until the tip of it is wedged in his throat. Staring up at Ernst through his lashes, he swallows. Ernst, in response, pulls the blond’s hair hard enough that Hanschen has to fight to keep his lips wrapped around his partner’s dick. Teeth may or may not get involved.

“Oh, God,” Ernst gasps, his ragged breathing the only other sound outside of the obscenely slick noises of oral sex.

“Mm,” Hanschen hums in agreement. It’s only when he digs his fingernails – _hard_ – into the back of Ernst’s thigh that the brunet’s hips stutter and he sighs happily. Hanschen pulls off to let his partner spurt across his cheek, painting it white. He emits a low, happy sound and rests his forehead against Ernst’s hip bone. Ernst begins to bend down, presumably to give his partner’s erection some much-needed attention, but the blond bats him away.

“Later, darling; I’ll let you fawn over me as much as you need to.”

They rest like that, pressed together, until the bashful sun has sunk completely below the horizon, taking all traces of orange and pink with it. Hanschen doesn’t protest when Ernst joins him on the ground, sitting on their discarded clothes, and tugs his trousers down his thighs as the first stars come out. He most _definitely_ doesn’t protest when Ernst prods gently at his lips until he lets them fall open and sucks two of Ernst’s slender fingers onto his tongue, or when those same fingers crook inside him while they share a slow, lazy kiss. Only after Hanschen has come across his own stomach does Ernst slump down to press his head into the crook of his partner’s neck. Their shared silence is comfortable, and when it's broken, Hanschen barely hears Ernst chuckle over the rustling of the oak leaves in the cool night-time breeze.

“What?”

“Everybody thinks that these are study sessions,” Ernst smiles, looking delightedly sheepish.

“They are,” Hanschen drawls. “Only sometimes we study Latin, and sometimes it’s Calculus, and sometimes it’s how to suck gorgeous cock.” He lets his mouth fall open slightly, and feels a sweet sense of achievement when Ernst surges up to press their lips together.

They stay there until the gleaming moon is beginning to make her descent.


End file.
